When the producers of Survivor needed a new location for the fourth installment of the popular TV show, they chose Nuku Hiva, one of the Marquesas Islands of French Polynesia, smack in the middle of the South Pacific.
They couldn't have chosen better. For one thing, contestants can gain inspiration from an earlier survivor, Herman Melville of Moby-Dick fame, who met up with island cannibals in 1842 yet lived to tell that and many other tales. (I myself barely survived a recent visit to Nuku Hiva, but more about that later.)
The locals are no longer cannibals, but a lot remains unchanged. This is still one of the world's remotest islands, home to fierce landscapes, fierce seas, fierce insects and fierce weather. Not to mention fierce gods, such as the island's carved tiki gods, which by custom and belief are said to be quite vengeful.
Nuku Hiva, in short, is a "don't mess with me" kind of place, a great place to dish out all kinds of misery for the Survivor contestants.
It doesn't look that way. In fact, this lush, volcanic island is savagely beautiful -- beautiful and remote enough to have attracted some of the world's greatest escape artists, such as Scottish novelist Robert Louis Stevenson (visited in 1888) and American writer Jack London (1907).
It is still remote and hard to reach, which means no tour buses (hardly even any paved roads), no tourist traps, and few lodging facilities. Despite modern inroads (the Survivor TV crew included), in many ways this is still ancient Polynesia.
Soaring, rugged landscape
Whether you come by air or sea, you're immediately struck by the forbidding look of the place. I got my first look at Nuku Hiva from the rail of a ship. Through the morning fog, I could just barely make out a jungly green land mass that, here and there, shot up into jagged, spire-like peaks. The whole island soared straight out of the sea.
This might be French Polynesia but there was not a tranquil lagoon to be seen. Some 950 miles northeast of Tahiti, Nuku Hiva is part of the craggy, volcanic Marquesas archipelago. Some 2,500 souls inhabit this 12-by-9-mile speck, the largest island in the Marquesas group and the most populated.
Like the rugged landscape, the people of Nuku Hiva (as well as all the Marquesas Islands) impress you, as they impressed Capt. James Cook, the explorer who sailed this archipelago in 1774: "Magnificent physiques," he wrote in his log.
And in the old days, these magnificent bodies also tended to wage wars. Lots of wars. Tribes constantly fought with one another. One of their favorite weapons was a war club called "casse-tete," or head-breaker.
My first encounter with Nuku Hivans came in the tiny village of Hatiheu, on the island's north coast, a place that author Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) fell in love with. It is here I almost met my maker.
I was told that not far from the pretty little village (pop. 240), with its baby blue schoolhouse and little white church, a performance of ancient dances was to take place. I followed the villager's directions and soon found myself at a sacred stone ceremonial plaza where Nuku Hivans once worshiped their gods and ate their enemies.
War chants and drum beats ripped through the hot, heavy air. Scowl-faced stone tiki gods stood guard over their domain. Nearly devoured by dense jungle gloom, the place had the atmosphere of a lost kingdom.
The ancient "Dance of the Pig" was under way. Pigs were "almost deified" in the Marquesas for their "mana" or supernatural power, I was later told by Mark Eddowes, a British archaeologist who was with the Polynesian Center of Human Sciences in Tahiti.
In any case, these leaf-clad dancers had nailed the impersonation of a pig, with their grunt-like chants and on-all-fours choreography. Clearly, the animal was being honored. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, after all. Also, pig was (and still is) welcomed on the menu.
Also welcomed on the menu, about a century ago, were "pua oa" or "long pigs" -- humans, to you and me.
Coconut crown
About halfway through the Pig Dance, I nearly lost my head, thanks to a falling coconut from one of the many palms that line the plaza. You'd think that getting crowned by a coconut would be nearly a daily occurrence here on this coconut-rich island. But it seems otherwise. When the fruit thudded to the ground, mere inches from me, many villagers jerked their heads my way and gasped at my close call. It was touching to think these descendants of cannibals seemed protective of me and my head.
It is hard to go hungry on Nuku Hiva. There are too many coconuts for that. And its fertile land abounds in tropical fruits like bananas and breadfruit. Not to mention wild pigs.
But, oh boy, it's hot work catching those oinkers. Located just nine degrees south of the Equator, Nuku Hiva can hammer you with its brutal climate, something I quickly came to appreciate. Though the average daytime temperature was around 80 degrees, to me it always felt like a steam bath.
The land is even more brutal. Rugged mountain terrain and dense jungle make it a trial to travel around the island. Often, it's easier to take a boat from one isolated village to another since the roads -- just tracks, really -- are for the most part unpaved. Four-wheel-drives were the only vehicles I saw on the island, and when the torrential rains come, you can pretty much forget about the even four-wheel-drive vehicles. A lot of locals recommend four-legged horse power instead.
And so I traveled by ship from the village of Hatiheu on the island's north coast to Taiohae in the south. It was at the town of Taiohae where 22-year-old Herman Melville, the great American writer (1819-1891), jumped ship in 1842, having had enough of the conditions aboard the whaler Acushnet.
Nowadays, Taiohae is the administrative center for all the Marquesas and is its largest town with a population of 1,700. (There are only 2,300 people total on Nuku Hiva.) It's no metropolis, but Taiohae is the Marquesan version of a happening place, with a post office, schools, a bank, a hospital, a handful of stores, and a few eateries and lodgings.
And in the autumn of 2001, Taiohae also boasted one of the two production camps of Survivor. A short distance away is Colette Bay, site of the Survivor Tribal Council.
Melville was charmed by Taiohae and its surroundings. "Nothing can exceed the imposing scenery of this bay," he wrote. Even being held captive by the island's fiercest cannibal tribe, the tattooed Typees of the Taipivai Valley, hadn't soured him on the place. After a month or so, he escaped and, four years later, published his first book, Typee, based loosely on his experiences.
Everyone wants to know: Was Melville really headed for the cannibals' pot? It's unclear. Some sources say yes. Other books say no, then add that Melville was treated like a guest by the Typees. Still other sources give a mixed story.
In the Dictionary of Literary Biography, for example, Hennig Cohen of the University of Pennsylvania wrote that Melville was made "captive by the Typees, said to be ferocious man-eaters, who had suffered at the hands of Captain Porter some twenty years before and had no reason to welcome American seaman." Yet, Melville "was treated kindly. He was a prisoner but something of a pet." So, there's no consensus. But, it seems many well-regarded historians believe the Typees were holding him captive.
Following Melville
Of course, every visitor wants to see the Taipivai Valley where Melville was held hostage. I was no different.
For Melville, the journey from the port of Taiohae to the cannibal valley was a grueling slog through mountainous jungle terrain. It still is. Though I went with a tour group in a jeep, it was still a bumpy ride on a rutted "road" through hilly and smothering jungle. It took two hours to travel a mere 10 miles.
Then we pulled up to an overlook and there it was. With a bay slicing up into it, Taipivai Valley had the wild look of a fjord. As we entered the valley, its 450 residents smiled and waved to us.
But there are still fierce man-eaters in Taipivai Valley, in fact all over Nuku Hiva. The locals call them "no-nos". Scientists call them Simulium buissoni. Everyone calls them a pain. No-nos are tiny black flies, little blood-sucking vampires that rip and tear your flesh. I saw many people with no-no bites. All the guidebooks warn visitors to use insect repellant. For some reason, I never got a no-no bite. The tiki gods must have smiled upon me.
Tiki gods, mind you, do not smile often. All over Nuku Hiva, you can come across these grim-faced stone gods. Sometimes you almost stumble upon them at sites that are nearly gobbled up by the jungle. Overgrown ruins dot Nuku Hiva, and it's easy to imagine you're the first person to discover a forgotten ancient city.
Besides ruins, some ancient religious beliefs have also stayed put. You'll find locals who claim that ancestral spirits haunt the ancient ceremonial grounds and will take revenge if offended. Even the carved tikis are said to be alive and often spiteful. I recall something a guide in Tahiti, who was not from Polynesia but Paris, once told me: "Do not ever move a tiki. It is bad luck."
Besides tiki carving, many of the ancient art forms (dancing, tattooing) are enjoying a revival on Nuku Hiva, and residents are proud of their traditional Polynesian lifestyles and traditions.
But they know that with Survivor coming to their island, opportunities as well as changes will occur. The filming, for example, provided high-paying employment to several hundred inhabitants. The project brought some 220 technicians, cameramen and producers to the island, many of whom needed drivers, cooks and assistants. The crew also hired boats and four-wheel-drives from locals. According to Tahiti Presse, a four-wheel-drive was renting for $2,000 US per day, and guards were being hired for around $700 US for 10 hours work.
Ultimately, according to the TV script, someone will survive. The cameramen will pack their gear, and move on.
Whether this unspoiled island will survive Survivor is another question.
